Through A Gauntlet
by Artemis's Liege
Summary: Peter Parker and Carlie Cooper are destined to be together, but will they ever be able to overcome the obstacles of their relationship and the people who oppose their love? Will Peter get stuck MJ, his ex-wife, instead Carlie, his one and only true love?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters, settings, and other plot elements belong to Marvel. Any products or copyrighted material belong to their respective owners. I do not gain any profit from this page.

* * *

Despite being in the middle of the party, Carlie Cooper found herself lonely and ignored. Old friends burst out in boisterous laughter from the corner on her right, while on her left, Flash Thompson and Betty Bryant conversed with another party guest she didn't recognize. Peter had vanished abruptly, and she hadn't seen Harry for the past twenty minutes. The other party guests were talking and laughing, and Carlie found herself standing on the edge of a circle of people with whom she was only vaguely familiar.

One of the men was recounting a story which she hadn't paid much attention to, but from the chuckles of his listeners, it was fairly humorous. Carlie was no snob, but she found herself underwhelmed by the celebration and wondered if she could fabricate an excuse believable enough to allow an early departure. Though in her mind, she knew her angry words to Peter earlier that day -when she had expressed her frustration with him not defining the relationship between them- would appear hypocritical if she were to run away from a social event hosted by Peter's aunt for one of his friends.

So Carlie forced herself to tough it out. In an attempt to dissuade the feeling of isolation washing over her, Carlie sipped her beer and tried to focus on how she could integrate herself, or at least interest herself, in the conversation, but to no avail. She took a longer pull from her beer and shuddered slightly as the buzz of alcohol began to warm her body.

Gratified by this sensation, she tried to gulp down several more swallows, but found that only a few drop trickled onto her tongue. Rolling her eyes and sighing in annoyance, Carlie waded through the bunches of people toward the apartment's kitchen. She sighed with relief as she entered the brightly-lit area; there were no flashing strobe lights against a dim background or fog machines in here.

She leaned back against the kitchen counter and grabbed a decorative napkin from a haphazard stack, wiping the perspiration that had formed on the skin around her eyes after removing her glasses. The many bodies moving about caused the living room to become quite warm.

Barely aware of what she was doing, Carlie crossed over the sink and placed her beer can under the tap, allowing water to stream into the can. Without hesitating, she poured the water down her throat, grimacing at the metallic taste. However, weary from the weight of stress upon her shoulders, Carlie knew that she needed to stay hydrated if she was going to continue to consume alcohol.

She tired to relax against the counter and be refreshed by the water, but she was much too tense. Her limbs, encased by the tight, dark Lycra of her Black Cat costume, felt stiff and awkward, and her body was flushed and overheated. No matter how much she tried to concentrate on something else, her mind returned to her argument with Peter earlier that day.

This was so difficult! She wanted more with Peter, she truly did, but he never acted like he was interested in her. Everything would seem fine between them, and they would make plans together, but then he would show up hours late. He would apologize after every incident, though at this point, Carlie was beginning to doubt his sincerity.

She was tired of being stood up constantly and being treated like she was nothing more than a convenient date when Peter bothered to commit, but she loved him. And no matter how much she wanted to, she couldn't change that.

Frustrated with her inability to find any inner calm, Carlie stalked over to the refridgerator, yanked it open, and withdrew another can of beer. She had slammed the door shut with more force than necessary before she realized that she was no longer alone.

Peter parker stood there, gazing at her with his warm hazel eyes, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. He wore dress clothes for his costume as J. Jonah Jameson.

Carlie's skipped a beat when she noticed how handsome when looked when he made an effort to clean up. Normally, she only saw him dressed in casual styles, like jeans and sweatshirts.

Rather embarass herself by attempting to compliment him, Carlie decided to play it cool. "Hey, Pete, wanna beer?" Then she remember what he had told her awhile ago. "Oh, right," she said, determined not to get flustered. "You don't drink."

He said nothing, but continued to stare at her.

Carlie inwardly cringed. He was probably still angry about their heated exchange that had occurred in the morning. But Carlie refused to allow her discomfort to show. "Say, have you seen where Harry went?" She was curious about where he had gone off to, and why. "It's _his_ party, and I haven't even gotten a chance to say, 'Boo'."

Peter continued to look at her without responding, and Carlie was done with the silent treatment.

"Peter, what is it?" Carlie asked. If he was still upset about what had happened, then it would be best for both of them to resolve the issue.

He hesitated, then drew in a deep breath. "Carlie . . . would you be my girlfriend?"

Carlie gasped in surprise. "Oh, Peter," she said softly. Doubts ran through her mind, warning her that Peter had failed her before, and she remembered her anger and frustration directed at him.

But before she could think about the turn of events, she and Peter were wrapped around each other, mouths open as they kissed. Carlie melted into Peter, shivering as his fingers trailed down the tight Lycra covering her warm back, and she as well allowed her hands to trace Peter's firm muscles.

But then, she broke away from Peter, and voiced the insecurities that had been plaguing her throughout the evening. "Peter, what about M.J.?"

Peter looked confused. "What about her?"

Carlie shook her head. "I spoke to her earlier."

"Yeah," Peter said. "She told me that."

"I've watched you two talked a couple of times," Carlie admitted. "And with the both of you talk to each other and talk about each other . . . you still have great chemistry as a couple. It's like you're still in love with each other."

Peter wrapped his arms around Carlie and smiled at her. "No, Carlie, we're not still in love with each other. M.J. and I . . . we have no future together, not a chance. Besides, I could never love her as deeply and absolutely as I love you." He looked at her seriously. "Carlie, it's obvious. We're soulmates, we're meant to be together."

"Peter," Carlie murmured. "I love you. Life would be pointless without you."

"I would kill myself if you weren't here for me," Peter whispered.

And with that, the two embraced again, kissing with the passion that only a man and a woman destined to be lovers could attain.

* * *

**A/N:**

Reviews and input are always appreciated. This story is open to ideas and suggestions.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters, settings, and other plot elements belong to Marvel. Any products or copyrighted material belong to their respective owners. I do not gain any profit from this page.

* * *

Stark white walls jutted up from the sterile floor, continuing endlessly, every turn around the corner bringing the same rat's maze of barren corridors. The bleak emptiness of the halls, devoid of any sentiment or decoration, was suggestive of the Arctic tundra: a cold, desolate place where one risked death upon entering.

The solitary beat of the man's footsteps resounded off the blank walls as he proceeded through the heart of the central Department K building. Numerous security measures had already ascertained that he was personnel, a scientist, authorized to come and go from the government research base as his procedures demanded.

He rounded another corner, and this time gray, metal double doors waited for him at the end of the hall. The knowledge that his destination was in view brought a compound of dread and relief, though both were muted inklings of ideas rather than actual emotions. Upon arriving the door, a grimace twisted his mouth as his fingers clenched over the stainless steel handle, but instead of deliberating in the midst of motion, he drew the door open and continued into the next room.

"Heather," the scientist called immediately, even before he had fully entered the room. His tone was louder than usual: he knew the various scientific equipment monitoring tests would stifle his voice.

The heavy door slammed shut behind him, but his ears barely registered the sound. Instead, all of his attention was focused on the sight before him.

This laboratory consisted of a single capacious room. He stood in the front of the chamber, at the beginning of a path that led through the numerous counters; some of the surfaces were occupied by beakers and test tubes filled with chemicals, others contained assorted components of electronic paraphernalia. Toward the back of the room were two sections much more organized: one with several sleek, modern computers and additional technology. The other appeared to be a medical area, the counter lined with transparent jars of gauze pads, adhesive tape, and peroxide swabs; cabinets stretched out above, and a wide cot had been pushed back into the far right corner, a large potted fern placed conspicuously nearby.

On his right was a moderate set of wide steps, the stairs leading to loft-like area where more scientific equipment waited. But what drew the scientist's gaze were the people positioned only a few yards away from him at the bottom of the stairs.

A young man and a young woman stood side by side, still as statues; they didn't so much as blink. Both appeared to be in their mid-teens, though their age was incredibly difficult to discern.

At first glance, they were both astonishingly beautiful. Gleaming blue eyes surrounded by long dark lashes, in turn framed by upswept, elegant eyebrows, all set above finely sculpted cheekbones. Winter pale skin unblemished by any sort of scar accentuated perfectly symmetrical, alluring faces, complemented by sleek black hair. Athletic builds, too: whipcord thin bodies accompanied by lean, tough muscles, wiry but strong.

The two were strikingly gorgeous, positively stunning.

They were also astoundingly similar to one in terms of physical characteristics, the only noticeable difference being their genders and the girl's long, loose hair that extended midway down her back. Obviously, they were twins.

However, as the scientist gazed upon them, their attractive traits morphed into uncanny perfection, a candle melting before the heat of a flame. Their eyes were so distinctly bright that it seemed impossible the two weren't using illicit substances, and they stared fixedly into the empty space in front of them. Their eyelashes were much too full and dark to be natural and simply rendered their intense eyes all the more disquieting. Their skin was so pale it was virtually cadaverous and created a jarring contrast with their dark hair.

With their flawless features, too beautiful, too artificial to be real, this combination of peculiarities created a rather eerie effect upon their visages, as if simply surrounded by an aura of dissonance. After first glance, the pair was quite unsettling: their appearances became surreal to the point of unearthliness.

"Hello, Walter."

The scientist raised his eyes from the twins to the figure standing upon the platform. Setting his mouth into a determined line, he passed within a few feet of the uncanny pair as he moved swiftly up the stairs.

"Heather," he replied evenly as he reached the zenith of the staircase.

Heather MacNeil was not an unattractive woman even though she lacked the soft, feminine appeal typically associated with her gender. Her demeanor was brusque, aloof, and unapologetically superior. She was tall, almost six feet in height and thin rather than svelte. Her facial features were angular, like those of a fox, and her long, straight, bronze-colored hair fell over the shoulders of her white lab coat, pinned back to keep it from hindering her vision.

"Have you come to visit my latest project?" She asked with a sharp smile when she turned from the monitors she was observing to face him. The fluorescent lights glinted off the lenses of her wire-framed glasses, the glare obscuring her eyes for several moments.

The scientist, Walter, didn't move from the summit of the staircase. "Not quite," he replied. "Director Colcord has _requested_ a meeting with both of us to discuss the progress of our research."

"Is that so." She didn't phrase the words as a question and leisurely moved a few paces away to some other piece equipment that stood on strong metal legs, this one very large, almost seven feet long and four feet wide. Though Walter couldn't see what the apparatus contained from his angle, he could hear quiet but steady _beep_ emanating from this rectangular, box-like structure.

Walter frowned as he recognized the sound. "Good God, Heather, is that a heart monitor?"

A smug smile was the only response he received.

Walter rushed forward so he could see the contents of the device for himself and practically reeled back in shock at what he saw.

Inside laid a young woman, enclosed by a thick sheet of transparent fiberglass. The design of the apparatus and the manner in which the girl laid on her back was reminiscent of a corpse situated in a coffin during a wake.

Stomach rolling in a sudden wave of nausea, Walter turn to Heather, who was watching him expectantly from a countertop away. "What the hell is this?" He demanded, a blend of horror, anger, and disgust filling his tone.

"An integral part of my research," Heather informed him, unperturbed. She briskly walked over to join him where he stood, gazing down at the tubes and scalp electrodes attached to the woman.

"Human experimentation, Heather?" Walter's hands clenched into white-knuckled fists.

"Hardly," Heather replied glibly. "She's a mutant."

Walter stared at her, too angry to properly speak.

"Before we brought her here, she was living in New York City," Heather explained. "Her mutation is certainly of the unusual variety. When she was found, she had been influencing the mentality of a man in New York City, a Mr. Peter Parker. She had him convinced that they were in a romantic relationship together and that he was in love with her. Curiously, her influence expanded from Parker to soon include Parker's family, then his closest friends, and then his enemies, the idea that she and Parker were in a perfect, fairy-tale romance growing stronger all the while."

"What's her name?" Walter asked warily.

Heather waved a hand dismissively. "Her real name? I have no idea. In New York City, she went by the ludicrous alias 'Carlie Cooper,' but we haven't been able to find any record that such a person actually existed."

"And how did you manage to aquire a mutant for experimentation?" Walter challenged.

"That's quite an odd story," Heather said smoothly. "While influencing Parker and his family, et cetera, she persuaded them that she had been childhood best friends with Gwendolyn Stacy, a woman who was close to earlier in his life Parker and murdered by the Green Goblin when he took her hostage. However, Cooper seems to have begun to believe her own illusions at some point and tried to murder Norman Osborn for revenge."

Walter blinked. "The president of OsCorp?"

"The one and the same." Heather responded calmly. "Apparently she thought that he was the Green Goblin. The entire situation was very strange. When Cooper was arrested by the New York City Police Department, she tried to use her abilities to convince the police that she was a crime scene investigator for superhuman incidents. But because of the lack of time for her influence to spread, one of my contacts was able to notify me, and so I negotiated to obtain Cooper for study."

"'Study?''' Walter repeated skeptically.

"Of course," Heather riposted. "Currently, she is sedated, with a special drug designed to keep subjects in the R.E.M. cycle. Sometimes she stirs for a moment or two." Heather glanced at one of the monitors for several seconds. "Watch her, now."

As Walter frowned by followed her instructions, beneath the thick sheet fiberglass, Cooper opened her eyes for only about five seconds. But as he watched, her brilliant blue eyes faded to brown, her blonde hair darkened to chestnut, and her skin seemed to suddenly tan.

"What in God's name?" Walter breathed.

"She's a shapeshifter in addition to her mental influence," Heather said with pride. "A strange combination of mutant abilities no doubt, which is why I was particularly interested in her."

"Exactly what kind of research is taking place with this subject?" Walter questioned.

"I commissioned one of the telepaths to aid me for a few days," Heather said placidly. "The telepath depicted what Cooper dreams about while sedated. It would appear that her dreams are of a world where she's welcome, where she has a definitive place. When she phases out of unconsciousness, however briefly, an random interruption occurs in her dream world, such as a freak lightning storm or an explosion."

"When are you going to allow her to leave?" Walter queried suspiciously.

"I've examining the profiles of the mind control experts on retainer," Heather said, unconcerned. "But I'm not satisfied with any of the specialists. Before I can even consider concluding my research upon Cooper, I need to know how she exerts her influence. Is it psionic? Does she empathically force feelings onto the subject? Can she emit pheromones and thus manipulate people? Her abilities are so subtle it's difficult to pinpoint the origin."

Walter gazed at her steadily, but Heather merely waved a hand carelessly and proceeded down the stairs. Walter followed her.

"Honestly, Walter, it's not as if I'm hurting her."

"No," Walter agreed. "You're just keeping her here against her own will as an experiment." He was distracted when his gaze fell upon the eerie twins once more. He barely managed to suppress a shiver from running up his spine. Their features were so flawless that something just seemed . . . _off_ about them. "Heather . . . what about those two?"

"These?" Heather glanced the two, who were still staring blankly and didn't acknowledge her presence. "Ghost."

The both of them responded to the single name, turning to face Heather.

"Meet Dr. Walter Langkowski." She gestured in Walter's direction.

They turned to him, but their eyes remained unfocused.

"They're the best assistants I've ever had," Heather said with satisfaction. She turned to speak to Ghost. "At ease."

The two resumed their position at the base of the staircase.

"Are these mutants as well?" Walter sent her a look of disgust.

Heather wasn't offended in the least. "I'm not exactly sure what they are. They don't appear to be mutants, but I haven't bought into the alien theory just yet, though the rest of the staff evidently has. All I know is that they're certainly not human." Her words were deliberately vague, but her tone was composed as always. "I might advertise them as mutants, though."

"Heather, these are children. They probably wouldn't even be able to register for their driver's permits!" He emphatically pointed to the stairs. "And that's person you have drugged into docility! These people have rights, they aren't your playthings!"

Heather scoffed. She walked towards the wall, shrugged off her lab coat, and hung it on a wooden peg, revealing an immaculately cut pearl gray pantsuit beneath. "Walter, don't be naive. The world does not yet know about mutants, but it's only a matter of time. When that happens, people will fear mutants, then grow to hate them. Parents won't want their children attending school with mutants in the classroom, mutants won't be allowed in bars or restaurants, employers won't hire mutants. But if mutants are shown in a positive light, as hardworking citizens who protect the rest of society, then mutants might be accepted."

"So you've brainwashed mutants to follow you?" Walter ask in disbelief.

Heather sent him an arch look. "For scientific advancement, there must be sacrifice. You should understand that better than anyone."

He directed a scathing look at her for the retort, but she ignored him.

"Carlie Cooper could work to counsel people, to help them through their psychological issues. Ghost -" she again referred to the two teenagers as one entity, "- can run as fast as the speed of sound. They could rescue people from burning buildings or work with the police to capture criminals."

"So you aim to use mutants as servants of the rest of society?" Walter gazed at her disdainfully. "That's twisted, Heather. They're people, they shouldn't have to prove themselves to anyone."

"But nevertheless, they will," said Heather with annoying certainty. "But before mutants can save us, Walter, we must save them. We must show society that they can be trusted. And if a few mutants must be sacrificed for that cause," she looked from Ghost to the stairs, "so be it." She smiled. "Let's not keep Director Colcord waiting, shall we?" She walked to the door, high heels clacking as she moved.

With a grimace of distaste, Walter followed her, but not before sending one last dark glance at the device sitting at the apex of the stairs, and then at Ghost, whose empty gazes remained centered on nothing in particular.

* * *

**A/N:** Reviews and input are always appreciated. This story is open to ideas and suggestions.


	3. Chapter 3

The roller-skating rink was nearly empty. Carlie supposed that most people didn't want to spend their Tuesday evening in their roller blades, slipping and sliding over an old-fashioned, polished-wood floor. She didn't mind, though. Her work as a forensic scientist was demanding, keeping her busy almost every day of the week at odd hours. Now, the scent of the burnished wood and the steady _thump_ of the rubber wheels on her roller skates hitting the floorboards soothed her frayed nerves.

Thoughts of Peter Parker plagued her mind. She hadn't known him very well until recently, but she had met him several times through her friends. Gwen Stacy, Carlie's childhood best friend who had been murdered by the Green Goblin, had been Peter's girlfriend at the time of her death. Harry Osborn, one of Carlie's other friends and the son of the Green Goblin, was Peter's best friend.

Carlie was currently casually dating him. Or, rather, she was trying to date him. Peter constantly broke their plans or arrived for dates hours after the originally planned time. He seemed apologetic when this happened, and his interest in her hadn't appeared to wane, but Carlie was beginning to wonder if she could continue to date someone who was so irresponsible. Loveable as Peter was, with these antics, he simply wasn't boyfriend material.

With her job, this dating thing going south, and her best friend Lily seeming to pull away from her, Carlie felt stressed and upset. She didn't know what to do anymore.

Suddenly, someone fell into step beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"What's a gorgeous girl like you doing here by yourself?" A baritone asked as friendly hazel eyes stared down at her.

"Peter!" Carlie gasped. "What are you doing here?" Nervously, she threaded a few fingers through her shoulder-length, chestnut brown hair that was gathered into a ponytail, poking out from beneath her red helmet.

Peter chuckled affably. "Well, I wanted to surprise the amazing girl I'm lucky enough to be dating."

Strangely, as Peter spoke, he and all of her surroundings seemed to blur before Carlie's eyes, weaving in and out of focus for several moments. Carlie wasn't certain if she swayed or not.

Peter didn't appear to notice anything unusual about her. "I know that I've been terrible about dates, so I wanted to make sure that you knew just how important you are to me." He turned to halt in front of Carlie, and she stopped as well. He took both of her manicured hands in his strong fingers. "Carlie Cooper would you do me the honor of allowing me to take you out to dinner at La Dolce Vita?"

La Dolce Vita was one of the most hip but upscale restaurants in town. Carlie was thrilled that Peter wanted to take her there. "Oh, Peter! I would love it! Thank you!" However, the sentiment of her words was ruined as she spoke and the world contorted before her once again.

Peter was pleased, Carlie could tell. He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed it, just as the music changed from a fast hip-hop beat to a soft and romantic melody. "I thought you might like that. Hey, it's a slow song. Want to partner-skate?"

"I would love to," Carlie said sincerely. But something was wrong. The scene before her blurred and warped, her voice sounded distorted to her own ears, and the sensation of falling overwhelmed her. Suddenly, bright light that materialized from nowhere blinded her, piercing through her closed eyelids, awakening her-

* * *

A pair of bright eyes stared down at her.

"Are you awake?" The eyes asked.

Carlie blinked. Her eyelids felt heavy. And how could a pair of eyes talk?

"Well?" The voice was completely monotone.

Carlie blinked again.

Oh. The eyes were attached to a face. A face with a mouth. That was where the voice was coming from.

But the face was completely unfamiliar.

Carlie sat bolt upright. She was in a large room with white walls. Various monitors and other pieces of sizeable equipment threatened to clutter the area, but the organization of the paraphernalia caused the room to retain a solid sense of order.

She was sitting in some sort of box-like table structure, the lid of which hung suspended from robust hinges on the right side. Her limbs ached slightly, but other she felt perfectly fine. As she glanced around, she noticed that standing a few feet away, was a teenage boy.

"Where am I?" She demanded.

He didn't respond right away, and a second figure emerged from up a staircase that laid somewhat behind him. This one was a girl, and she stopped beside the boy.

They looked uncannily alike in every way, the only primary differences being their genders and hair lengths: the boy's hair was cut typical for those his age, slightly over the ears and collar, while the girl's hair reached halfway down her back. Their eerie similarities brought Carlie to wonder if they were twins.

Though the two were young, they were also beautiful in a positively unnatural manner. Between the two of them, there were no physical flaws that Carlie could see. With their black hair, bright but pale blue eyes, and alabaster complexions that held empty, blank expressions, the striking beauty of the two was disarmingly unearthly.

"Where am I?" Carlie repeated, more forcefully this time.

Neither answered. Carlie used her hands push against the metal device so she could stand, before jumping down, landing on shaking legs. She felt dizzy for several seconds, but that sensation passed, leaving her free to move to the stairs without any worries of taking a tumble. Neither of the twins tried to stop her, or even looked at her.

She had made her way halfway down the stairs before either of them reacted. A high, chilling laugh rand throughout the air, and Carlie whirled about on the step. When she twisted her body, she saw that the two of them had also turned to face her.

"Where do you think you're going?" The girl asked. Her voice was low and velvety. "There's nowhere for you to run." She laughed. The shrill sound was completely dissonant with her smooth voice.

They vanished before her eyes, but Carlie shrieked when she realized they reappeared and now stood side by side in front of her. She tried to back away from them, but wound up just tripping and falling on her behind.

"Calm down," the girl said. She smiled, but the exposure of her gleaming white teeth was more of a threat than a comfort. "We can help you."

"You are in a research facility for the study of mutants. This is part of the central Department K building, which is a of the Canadian government's science division. Your name is Carlie Cooper." The boy spoke, and his voice was just as sleek and silken as his sister's.

Panic seized Carlie's mind. "Dear God, am I a mutant?"

"Yes," the boy said gently.

Carlie stared at him, devastated.

"But don't worry," he reassured her softly. "If you're willing to help us, we have a way out."

Carlie stared at him for several seconds, then frowned and glanced from to his twin. "Who are you?"

"Like you, we are mutants who have been oppressed," he replied readily. "We have been used for experimentation."

"Are you twins?" Carlie queried.

The two exchanged a long look, then the girl smiled. "Yes," she said. "We are mutant twins."

"What are your names?" Carlie asked, feeling sympathy for the brother and sister. Gwen had been like a sister to her, and it had been so upsetting when she died . . . Gwen . . . Gwen . . . _Gwen_ . . .

"It's been along time since we used our civilian names," the girl said wistfully. "But I am Eros Lovehaight, and my brother- my _twin_ brother- is Thanatos."

"Is your family Greek?" Carlie asked.

The two turned toward each other with somewhat confused expressions before Thanatos responded. "Our paternal grandfather was from Greece," Thanatos confirmed.

Carlie's head began pounding as a revelation overtook her mind. "I have to get to New York City. The man I love is there. Peter. His name is Peter Parker."

Another long look, an unspoken conversation, was traded between Eros and Thanatos, before they both offered her wide smiles.

"Of course," Eros said sincerely. "We will help you get to New York City."

"Okay." Carlie stood. "What do you need me to do?"

"This way." Thanatos and Eros led her down the stairs, moving in perfect unison and over to a series of work counters cluttered with chemistry equipment.

Carlie gasped. Behind one of the counters lay a man and woman. Both appeared to have collapsed, and they lay sprawled on the ground. "What happened?" She asked the twins.

"These were the scientists working on us," Eros said with distaste. "They got what they deserved." She knelt down beside the man's form, and her brother stood beside her as she caressed the scientist's face. "Poor Walter. He felt sorry for us, you know." She raised her eerie gaze to Carlie's brown eyes. "But if he was only going to offer us pity, and not aid, then I think he's received his just rewards."

Watching the two human experiments stand gloating over their fallen creators, Carlie was forcibly reminded of the tale of Frankenstein's monster, but she wasn't quite sure why.

Eros stood. "Carlie. You can shape-shift. Take Heather's form. You'll need it to get us out of here."

Carlie was aghast. "What? I don't know how- "

"Focus," Eros commanded. "Think about what Heather looks like, and concentrate on her form."

As ordered, Carlie focused on the woman, noting her red hair, lab coat, and angular face. The sensation of butterflies in her stomach overcame her, and chills ran up and down her arms, as if gooseflesh had broken out over skin.

Eros and Thanatos gazed at her, before glancing at each other with smirks.

"Very nice," Eros noted approvingly. Her laugh rang out once more. "You even shape-shifted her glasses onto your face."

"Take this." Thanatos pressed a plastic identification card hanging on a lanyard into her hand. "This will clear your through all of the halls and allow you to obtain a vehicle. No one will object if they see us following Heather around. We'll lock the lab when we leave, as Heather usually does, and no one should realize what's happened until it's too late."

Carlie accepted the card, albeit hesitantly. "Thank you." She gave a sincere but uncertain smile.

"Don't worry, Carlie," he told her softly. "We'll make it to New York. I promise."

"And I'll do my part to help you along the way." Carlie squared her shoulders, then turned towards the door. "Let's go."

Had Carlie thought to look behind her, she would have seen the twins exchange identical, wolfish smiles.

* * *

**A/N: **Kudos to anyone who gets the joke about Carlie's shapeshifting glasses or guess the true identity of the twins.


End file.
